History Of the Trap: Chapter Nine - October Tears

I wept.

Exploring San Francisco

Ah, yes!  Patience and careful planning has its rewards!  We finally were able to take our long anticipated trip to California!  My son Greg works in Hollywood, and we wanted to see and also visit San Francisco.  After much planning and saving, cashing in tons of Capital One rewards points, and me earning an extra three vacation days a year after fifteen years at the CPA firm I work at, we were able to make the trip!

This was the view from our room in San Francisco.  The tall tower is Coit Tower, and the island in the Bay is Alcatraz, one of two famous rocks we were to see our trip.  We could also see Fisherman's Wharf and Chinatown.

Although we had a full week for our trip, it was still not enough time to see a redwood forest, so this was as close as we got.  This was in the Exploratorium, a huge hands on children's science museum on the pier in San Francisco.  Alison got us the Citipass, which entitled us to unlimited public transportation and four attractions.  

Alison and Benjamin are fascinated by this sculpture of a an intricate ship, made entirely out of toothpicks.  

The Exploratorium was huge, the largest hands on museum I had ever seen.  We spent way more time than we expected in it, and Benjamin's mind was overwhelmed by it.  There were a lot of people in the museum as well.  Many, many very excited children, and a very helpful staff.

Another great first day experience was the City Lights Bookstore.  This was a popular hangout for beat authors like Allen Ginsberg and Ken Kesey in the 50s and 60s.  There were three floors to it, including one floor devoted solely to poetry and beat literature.  There was not a Rushy Limbaugh or Bill O'Liely book in sight.  I had never seen so many progressive books in one place before.  It about made me weep for joy.  Even the science fiction and mystery sections were filled with fiction writers of progressive backgrounds.  

And that's just the first day, folks!  More to come!  This is the modern equivalent of my Dad's vacation slide shows!

Bring popcorn!

History of the Trap: September Rains Part 9

9

Meet me at 10.  I want to see you.

That is what she whispered to me.  That, and the kiss, is what had me on fire, a passionate hope rekindled.

She also whispered where to meet her.  And that is where I headed that morning.  In fact, I left early.  I had not seen her at breakfast, but she and the Morgan crew could have been there earlier. 

I was supposed to be at the TV Studio, but I begged off, asking for an additional hour, before showing up for morning planning.  Another Lookout Variety Hour of Power was scheduled for the next night, and I needed to bring in my preliminary sketch of the next episode of The Sands of Loren.  I never knew trying to write a soap opera that was only ten minutes an episode twice a week would be such a burden.  At least I had prepared an outline the day before.  I was still a slow typist, and I had missed the times when Lisa would help me type copy, but I was hopeful that would change, as it appeared we might be growing closer again.

That certainly was just an incidental part of being close to her, though.  It was nice to have that help, but mostly because it drew us together.  I loved her company and her smell, the touch of her fine blond hair, the smoothness of her skin, the hazel brown dreaminess of her eyes slightly magnified by her thick glasses.  I loved having someone to talk to who was intellectually compatible.  Who am I kidding?  She was way smarter than me, but I loved it.

I made my way to our rendezvous spot.  I was fifteen minutes early and she wasn't there yet.  I didn't really expect her to be, but that was okay.  I wanted to prepare myself for her arrival.  I wanted to be there first.  I had some flowers that I had, well, surreptitiously acquired; some daffodils and other tulips.  I arranged them as best I could, hoping that she would not notice my lack of skill.  I pictured her coming around the corner, seeing the flowers, and then falling into my arms.

I heard noises from the band room, some melody being rehearsed for a future concert.  Their practice began at 9:30 and would end at 11 AM, so there was no chance they would come out to interrupt us.  And Mr. Black's office was no longer a den of black market booze.  The final group to use the area, the Drama Club putting on Charley's Aunt, did not have rehearsal until later in the afternoon.

So there I was, waiting for my beautiful friend, Lisa Carlton, standing in the covey alcove, the same one where we first observed Mr. Black and his partners in contraband, David Izzner and Jack Kessler, discussing their black market enterprises.  I don't know if it was the first place I would have chosen (I wish we could get in my Dad's office, but that wasn't possible, certainly not at this time of morning), but it was a place where we kissed, even it was ostensibly for cover.

It grew to be 10:00, and she had not arrived.  Fifteen minutes later, I was growing anxious.  I did not know whether to keep waiting, or look for her, or just give up.

Knowing that it wasn't in use, maybe I had misunderstood.  Maybe she meant the actual auditorium.  I had decided not to be in the play, occupied as I was with the soap and other TV studio activities, and had not really been in the auditorium since Jack Kessler had assaulted me, only for him to wind up falling and busting his head open during the tremors from the tunnel explosion.

I cracked open the main auditorium door.  It was very dark, but I could see the outline of the set for Charley's Aunt, flats up to suggest a Victorian house, and a dining room table with ornate chairs.  I could see that someone was seated at the table, but I couldn't make out who they were.

"Lisa?" I called out, thinking she might be the one on the set.  I flicked on a light near the door, and it lit up the auditorium enough to see that it was Lisa at the table.  "Lisa!  What are you doing in here?  I didn't see you come in.  I almost missed you."

She didn't move or respond.  "Are you feeling ok?  Is everything...."  And then I noticed that her head was lolled back at an awkward angle.  I rushed in closer, jumping onto the stage.  There was something sticky on the floor.

Lisa, my Lisa.  My beautiful, bright, intelligent friend.  My first true girlfriend.  My lover.  Her throat had been cut.  The sticky stuff was her blood.

I touched her gently, but that was all it took to send her sliding out of the chair, and her body slamming onto the stage floor.

I was crushed with grief, but my first reaction was anger.  "No!" I screamed.  "This can't be!"  I looked skyward and shook my fist.  "Enough!"

I'm sorry, Doctor Duncan.  I need to take another break.

The Mystery of San Jose

"Excuse me," she said.  "Do you know the way to San Jose?"

I looked up at her.  Sitting on the park bench, I was surprised that anyone would actually talk to me.  I was dressed in khakis and a blue dress shirt, but my tie was loose, my hair uncombed and twisted by the wind, my beard, which I normally keep shaved close, had grown to early Duck dynasty lengths.  I would not have thought that a woman dressed in a short navy skirt and a a gray blouse, looking very enticing, would choose me to ask such an unusual question.  She had long blond hair, that somehow stayed in place despite the wind. She even had some flowers in her hair. Her face was pretty, with large blues eyes and a button nose.  She looked at me with solemn sincerity, as if I was capable of give profound and exacting directions.

"I'm sorry," I replied.  "I've only been in town for a week.  I'm not real familiar with the area yet."  Washington Square in North Beach was only minutes from my work.  I had taken on a staff accounting position with Ching Yueng CPA on Kerney Street.  He wanted to diversify his client base, and thought my Anglo face would help.  San Francisco, I thought, please make room for me.  I did not want to have to move again.  I felt like I had crawled on my knees enough.

"That's alright," she sadly toned.  "Do you mind if I share the bench with you a moment?"  I nodded quickly.  Who am I to argue if a beautiful woman wanted to sit next to me?

We sat quietly together for a few moments, staring at the children and dogs playing in the park.  There were also a few homeless people in sleeping bags as well.  Then she broke the silence.  "Honeymoon in San Francisco, he said!  What a grand idea, I thought!  We'll even stay at  four star hotel, he said.  Well, I guess the Hilton is four star, especially at the executive level.  Do you know?"

I shrugged my shoulders.  I had no idea.  I felt lucky to have my one room bungalow just off the Tenderloin.

"Well anyway, there we were, thinking we could spend the whole time drunk on champagne and lime."  She put her hands over her face.  "Hah! What a joke!"

I had no idea what had happened to her.  Something must have derailed her honeymoon quickly.  I looked around to see if someone was coming for her.  I had to agree with the idea that everything here was just too big to keep up with.  Here we were surrounded by life, but I didn't think I would ever understand it. Ah, this great magical city of the Gandhavas, this San Francisco.

"We fought in the room, over every little thing.  It was as if we were strangers.  So, both being a little hungry, we went out to get a hot dog, down the Hyde St. Pier, you know that Fisherman's Wharfy thing. The light was slight and it disappeared, and everything just stunk of beer and fish."  Her tale  was getting odder by the second (was it a fake tale? was I being pranked?).

But she continued on.  "I couldn't go back and hear the echoes through that room.  It was like a wedding disco without a bride and groom.  I ran off and walked the ground.  How he made me weep on Sansom Street.  How he made my moody weather come."

A church group came in to the park, singing as angels sing, but wearing jeans of blue.  I think I spotted their preacher on the edge of the park on a Harley Davidson, too.  "All on a warm San Francisco night," she added, but I had to admit, I had lost the train of her story.

"I called my mother and she said, 'Come back from San Francisco!  It can't be all that pretty when all of New York City misses you!' I'm from Brooklyn.  Did I mention that?"

I shook my head no.  I was completely lost, partly by her strange story, but mostly I was lost in her entrancing beauty.  I didn't know if I had stumbled onto a beautiful lost soul who needed comfort from a shattered marriage, or a deranged psychopath off her meds.  I realized if I could kiss her, the answer didn't even really matter to me.

"So she mentioned my Uncle Elster in San Jose.  I could go to him.  I just had to find the way.  But now, I just don't know.  Do you know what I fear will be my first thought if I leave and go to San Jose?"

She grabbed my hand and looked at me earnestly.  My heart melted, and I must admit to shaking just a little.  "What?" I croaked out.

"That despite my misgivings, despite his awful behavior, despite everything, that I will feel like I left my heart in San Francisco.  You know, high up on that hill up there, where those little cable cars climb halfway to the stars."

She stared intently at me.  I was entranced, beyond myself, past all reason.  I bent in to kiss her.  It made no sense, but she was right there, inviting me, not backing away.  An inch away I was, when the loud voice boomed, "Stella!"

Her eyes opened wide and she looked towards the other end of the park, where a large man was swiftly moving toward us.  "Oh, it's him!" she squealed, popping up off the bench.  She turned to me one last time.  "Thanks for listening to me!'

And then she was gone.

If only I had just said I knew the way to San Jose.  I could have figured it out.  I could have taken her there. I could have met Uncle Elster and made  a big impression, and put fresh flowers in her hair, and taken her dancing, and kissed her, and she would know.  She had not left her heart in San Francisco.

She had found it.

Condiment Potpourri - So Much More than Ketchup

So people who know me sort of, well, tend to think I put ketchup on everything.

Au contraire!

It is true that I put ketchup on things you normally might not, but I do not put it on everything.  Here is a food list and my preferred condiments -


Hamburger - I prefer a wide variety of condiments on hamburgers, and it does include ketchup.  But it also includes mustard, pickles and a wide variety of cheeses.  I also sometimes like mushrooms, bacon, or BBQ sauce.

Hot Dog - mustard, onions, and relish.  NO KETCHUP. Sometimes cheese.

BBQ sandwich - sweetest BBQ sauce that you can find, pickles.  Occasionally cheese.

Mexican - now this is what stands out in people's minds about me and ketchup.  Because I am an unapologetic ketchup user on Mexican foods. I sometimes will use some mild/sweet salsas but as an addition to ketchup - not a replacement.  I am not a huge fan of heat, but I am of sweet, and for me, ketchup provides the perfect balance against the spiciness of the Mexican food.  I also like sour cream,  And, of course, cheese.

Italian - marinara.  And cheese.  Lots and lots and lots of cheese.

Grits - mustard, and cheese. Sharp cheddar is the best.

Sausage 'n' Cheese Biscuit - the South's greatest invention.  And I add.....mustard.

Steak - ketchup.

Chick Fil A and other chicken sandwiches - ketchup.

Pork and pork sandwiches - BBQ sauce and sometimes ketchup.

German - mustard.

Chinese - sweet and sour sauce.

Greek - Tzatziki, and also like ketchup on Gyros.  Sometimes cheese, particularly feta.

Broccoli - vinaigrette dressings, Parmesan.

French Fries - ketchup.

most beans - ketchup.

Seafood  - scallops and fried clam strips is tarter sauce and/or ketchup.  Fish is ONLY long John Silvers with malt vinegar and ketchup.  Sometimes remoulade, which is hard to find.

Japanese and stir-fry - white sauce (Yum Yum Sauce).

I will add some condiments to soup sometimes, but what I add varies dramatically due to whatever the soup is, and whatever strikes my fancy.  Sometimes I add cheese to soup.

Cereal - milk.

That is all the categories I can think of this early day.  If anyone else has questions about other food items,  just ask and I will let you know!

Sincerely,

The Ketchup King (AKA the Cheese Wiz),

T. M. Strait

Distant Wednesday Wanderings

Do I like Greek food?  Middle Eastern?

I am unclear.

Chicken kabobs are good.  Lima Beans and lamb over rice is good.  Hummus and falafel are good.  Baclava done right is heavenly.

We have no Greek or Middle Eastern restaurant in our little corner of the world.  I don't even think there'a one in Brunswick.  Anybody who lives in Southeast Georgia, if you know of  place, let me know.

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I have found the World Cup fascinating to hear about, and have even watched some.  My older boys, Greg and Doug, love it, and I am beginning to catch some of their fever.  The last minute tie with Portugal was heartbreaking, but the USA is still in it, as of writing this.

It's also fascinating that of the first 8 qualifiers, 6 are from the Americas.  That's a whopping 75%!

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Shout out to my friend Julie who is doing so much to help a young kitten get a fighting chance, and to all those who have helped our foster Ethan, improve to perfect health, and to every fine individual who is working to improve the treatment of animals!  God bless you all!


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My food nationality favorites:

1) Italian.....the more cheese the better.

2) Mexican......with ketchup (like it or not).

3) Chinese.......99% of the time from the one and only Wong's!

4) Southern......BBQ with sweet sauce, and also love grits...plus sausage 'n' cheese biscuit is the South's greatest contribution to American culture.

5) Greek....gyros and baclava....and this could move up the list if I could find one closer than Florida!

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My blog has been sporadic, and I have not used pictures in awhile.  I hope to remedy that soon.


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Meanwhile, hope all my friends and Strait Line followers have a great day and week!

Your wandering writer,

T. M. Strait

Rust on an Early Tuesday Morning

I try to shake away the rust around my legs
To travel forward in to a brand new day
My feet ache from the miles they have traveled
My legs cramp up in the mooring light

I bring my hands to the keyboard
Carpal tunnel is denied control of my writing spirit
I will not yield to the numbness of my fingers
It will not stop me from recording my day

I summon all the mental will I can muster
The fog of Dawn clings all about me
It's
Everything
I
Can
Do
To
Put
One
Word
In
Front
Of
Another

But try I must
Through the fog and pain
Through the dwindling receptors
Through the discouraging silence
Try I must

And when I do
The pain makes sense
The fog clears
At least enough to know

I tried

Ripping Good Yarns: The Many Headed Hydra of Entertainment

When it comes to entertainment, when it comes to our love of Ripping Good Yarn style storytelling, our interest and preferences are as broad as the group itself.  Looking at each one of us is like looking through a kaleidoscope,  each of us with a different combination of likes and dislikes.

The idea behind the creation of Ripping Good Yarns, both as a blog category within The Strait Line and as a Facebook group, was twofold.

The first was to have a place to talk about a certain kind of storytelling.  More melodramatic than the usual Oscar nominees and arty works, stories that centered more on character and plot, that turned and twisted, that emphasized continuing elements and character growth.  Genre entertainment would fare better, but it wouldn't necessarily be exclusive.

The second was to create a safe environment to discuss these things.  I had noticed that when I tired to talk about things, particularly television, half of my comments would be about how television was rotten and that "they" would never deign to watch television.  So I tried to create a space where no one is criticized for their entertainment choices, both in what they see AND in how they see it. Reading, watching, listening, performing....all would be equally respected.

It has been generally been successful, although I have had trouble sustaining the traffic volume level to make it more engaging.  Asking for votes or nominations can be a scary process.  Sometimes people are out there, sometimes they're not.

I have a number of book people, and they post a lot.  That is a very good thing.  Books are not the only part of Ripping Good Yarns, but they are an important part.  On the other hand, you can dislike reading, and still be a full fledged part of Ripping good Yarns.  You may prefer audiobooks, or TV, or something else,  It's okay!  The key element is in liking storytelling.

Television is still rough.  A number of people make it clear they do not watch television, or watch very little of it.  That's fine.

Whatever it is you prefer, don't make other people feel like what they're doing is less than you because it's not the same way you like to receive story-telling.  There's a lot of criticism in our culture over the amount of time people watch TV.  Ripping Good Yarns is not the place to make that kind of judgement.

Myself?  I play the field.  I read books, watch TV and movies, participate in theater, write my own stuff. How do I find the time to do it?  Easy.  I have no other real hobbies or interests other than my family and storytelling.  I don't garden, or sew, or do household building or repair projects.  I don't gamble, carouse or play sports.  Not everyone is like that.  And I'm fine with that, as long as they don't condemn those involved in storytelling as being lazy, or wasting time.

I mean, really.  Except for the basic necessities and taking care of each other, we're all just basically Waiting for Godot.

Then there is the problem that, even within the context of  being a Ripper (storyteller lover), that the group of stories that you like may be different than others.  We can't all be huge The Walking Dead fans.  Things that you find distasteful or disinteresting may be someone else's cup of tea.  We had a set of friends awhile back who loved the genres we like best, science fiction and fantasy.  But it was inevitable different books and movies and TV shows than our favorites.  If we liked Battlestar Galactica, they liked Babylon 5.  If they liked Godzilla, we preferred Jaws.  The point is, even when preferences seem close, they may not be an exact match.

If you like Ripping Good Yarns, there is still more that unites us than separates us.  It's fun to talk with those with different perspectives, and to learn about new stories to experience and try.

It just takes a little respect, and we're on our way to the best time ever!

But really, seriously, y'all should try Agents of SHIELD.  It is awesome.

Ulps!  I started back into it already!

Have a great day, Rippers!  Here's to a new exciting story find, and here's hoping you will share it with us.

Saluda!

Unchanging Waves

I know they're gone
I know they're never coming back
Or do I?

It seems
Like every day
I  have to discover it anew

I dream
And they're there
No explanation
I accept it

Then I wake
And realize they're gone
And it's not just for today
It's for always

Something happens
Something good
And I reach for the phone to call them
And then I stop myself

I knew it would be hard
I knew I would miss them
I just wasn't prepared

For it to be like this
All the time
Every single day

Summer Variety Funtime!

Here are some great events coming up this summer!

If you missed this great play the first time, here is your chance to see it!  If you have seen it, here is your chance to see it again!  This is a very meaningful and well done show about the horrors of the Holocaust and the endurance of the human spirit.

Coming soon to Flying Dragon - Storybook Classics!

The Rocky Horror Show!

405 Tebeau Street

Flying Dragon After Dark

Dragons After Dark invites you to give yourself over to absolute pleasure.. once again. 

So, come up to the lab, and see whats on the slab. 
Show dates will be June 26-28 at 7:00pm

WARNING: Adult content-Viewer discretion advised.
17 or younger must be accompanied by an adult.

We will be accepting $5 donations for admission to the show!

Audience costumes are encouraged!

Don't dream it Be it! We hope to see you there!

WACT is breaking for the summer, but here is their schedule for the coming year.  As for acting, I'm probably going to pass on The Dixie Swim Club, but The Best Christmas Pageant Ever looks like a great family opportunity again for myself, Benjamin and Alison. 

Wayne County Writer's Conference and Workshop

July 18th - July 19th

A workshop for local writers, authors and teachers of writing. We will meet at the HOA and the Presbyterian Church in Jesup. We will have 2 days of sessions starting at 6-10 Friday night and 9am-10pm on Saturday. Keynote speaker is nationally recognized science fiction author Jack McDevitt, and presenters include creative writing instructors from Brewton Parker College as well as local writers and artists.

If you would like to know more, let me know and I will make sure you get a brochure!

July 25th at 7PM

Poet's Corner Night 

at the Okefenokee Heritage Center

Come celebrate a night of original poetry and song!

Free coffee provided!

Themeless Tuesday Tidbits

One of the first pictures we put on our computer.  It dates back to 2006, and it was before we learned about how not to store pictures sideways.  Benjamin here is six.

Well, here I am.  Another Tuesday and I'm stuck without a theme,

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My feets continue to slowly improve, but soon they will be in demand again.  I have tried a number of homeopathic cures recommended by friends, but they have not been completely successful, nor have I been faithful in consistent application.

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Finally finished my streaming of Dexter, something I had been doing off and on the past few years.  Without spoiling, did the series ending suck as bad as I have heard others say?  Why, yes.  Yes, it did.  It made Breaking Bad's ending look like Shakespeare in comparison.  I love the convenience of DVDs and streaming, but I still don't quite get the hang of binge-watching.  I don't think I could watch 13 episodes of anything over a day or two.  The most I can do is a few a week.

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I am not an arts and crafts person.  My mind doesn't work that way.  Just to get it out of the way, I don't much care for yard work or home repair.  I'll do what I have to, particularly if others can guide me through it, but I receive no joy, and no pleasure at a job well done.  Sorry.  Sometimes I wish it was different.

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Really?  The networks are turning to the same pack of fools that led us into the Iraq War for commentary and advice on how to handle the current flareup, primarily caused by the war and instability that THEY CREATED?  Shame on them, the networks and the Bush League Era commentators.  And shame on you if you listen to them, even for one second.

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Ethan has improved tremendously, now that the heart-worm treat is over four weeks out.  soon he will go to the vet, and hopefully get the all clear.  Can't wait!

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I am now on the other side of my vacation divide.  I am now earning at the rate of fifteen days per year instead of twelve.  Life is so much different now, so much richer.  I love it.

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As usual, although my ODS (Obama Derangement Syndrome ) post continues to rack up page views, it has engendered zero response from ODS sufferers.  Oh, well.  All you can do is try.

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The clock is smacking against my head.  I must go.  Or pass out.  I think I'll go.

Have a terrific Tuesday,

T. M. Strait

A New Kind of Father's Day

My father, Eugene Strait and myself, with young Greg Strait.  This picture is probably from 1982 or 1983.

I see the many things that people endure, and I know that it is a small thing in comparison.  People lose many, and it is always hard.

Nevertheless.

This was my first Father's Day without him here on this plane of existence. I knew it wasn't going to be easy.  I didn't know it would be as hard as it was.  

I miss him terribly.  Both he and my mother.  

The fact that he was 91, in slowly diminishing health, does not mitigate how much I miss him.  How much I wish he was here and strong again.  Aging may be natural.  It may be the way of things.  But it also sucks.

Disregarding beliefs about the afterlife, for right here, it hard to accept the fact that I will never see them again.  Sometimes, when I sleep and dream, I think that they are not gone.  But then I wake and have to accept it all over again.

Many of you have suffered losses, as great or greater than this.  It hurts, I know.  It may never stop hurting.  But we find ways to endure, and to remember.  We find ways to carry on, while carrying the shining light of those who have gone but have meant so much to us.

My father was a great man.  A man of many substantial achievements.  But nothing was as great as his kindness, nothing as significant as his politeness and basic human decency, nothing as important as the way he loved and cared for us.

Will next Father's Day be easier?

Maybe.

But I'm not even sure that I want it to be.  Pain and grief are a part of living, a part of coping, a part of remembering.  And this is part of his legacy in me - to empathize, to feel, to care.

Thank you, Dad.  I love you always.

Do you suffer from ODS??? There is Hope!!! Saturday Political Soap Box 86

Do you suffer from ODS????

And no, I am not referring to Obstinate Defiance Syndrome (although, come to think of it, that sure might be a symptom!)

What I am referring to is......

Obama Derangement Syndrome!!!

..............where all your political opinions are shaped, first and foremost by your hatred of President Obama....where you instinctively flip your position based on whatever you find out the President is doing....if he changes to your position, you act like you've never had that position, and that the President's position, which WAS your position, is now evil and wrong and socialist and unamerican!!!

This dates all the way back to President Obama's inauguration when Senator McConnell declared the Republican's major goal was going to be to destroy Obama's presidency.  Help the American people?  Fuggetaboutit!  Pull us out of recession?  Why? - when you can keep blaming Obama?  Participate in reforming healthcare?  Heck, no!  Just gripe and oppose and rail - EVEN WHEN HE TAKES YOUR IDEAS!

The first time it really super irritated me, and the ODS was pulsatingly clear, was not with a Republican, but with so-called "Independent Democrat" Senator Joe Lieberman.  In 2004, he ran for President, promoting his idea of starting medicare at age 55.  Now whatever you think of that idea, it was HIS idea.  When it came time to negotiate the Affordable Care Act in 2009 and 2010, the President really needed Lieberman's support.  So the idea of extending medicare to age 55 was promoted as a bipartisan solution, and it looked like it was going to take hold.  But once it was clear that it was an important reach out to Lieberman, he PUBLICLY stated that if the President and progressive/liberal Democrats were for it, than he was against it.  One of the most disgusting reversals I've ever seen in American politics, fueled by ODS.

Now, we have the incredibly blatant reversal of many conservatives regarding the release of POW Bergdahl, where they were pouncing on Obama for not acting.  They were even aware of the potential exchange of the five Taliban.  They were for it until the President actually did it, and then...BLAMMO!  A complete reversal!

Right now the disaster that was the Iraq invasion is coming back to bite us.  DO NOT LET THE RIGHT WING PRESS DELUDE YOU!  This is a mess created by Bush, Cheney and the Republicans and IT ALWAYS WILL BE.  I and many others said at the time that this would cause problems and damage for DECADES TO COME.  But ODS will figure out a way to blame Obama for this.

But you can prevent ODS!  You do not have to suffer anymore!

1)  Find out what you really believe and stick with it!  Even if it is right wing douchery, stick with it!  And then when the President comes around to parts of your position, instead of running to a different position, say "Thank you, Mr. President!  Thank you for coming around to the right way of thinking!"

2)  Examine without prejudice the President's positions and achievements  and find one or two places you might have some agreement.  My right wing friends ask me to do this all the time, but in the reverse direction.  Tell me where you disagree with Obama, they ask me, or do you just blindly follow whatever he supports?  Then when I list a litany of things (mostly because he is not liberal enough), they get confused and their eyes glaze over.  So try it the other way, which I never hear you do.  Give it some serous thought.  Special note to Kentuckians: Kynect IS Obamacare.

3)  Ask yourself how you would feel about someone who blindly attacked the President if he were somebody you did admire, like Reagan or...OK, I'm lost after that, but you know what I mean.  In 2002/2003, if I dared utter a word in opposition to Bush, Jr., especially connected to the awful decision to invade Iraq, I was considered unpatriotic and anti-Christian, a socialist loving miscreant.  Now it's reversed.  Now the same super patriots condemn, sometimes in the most vile terms, anything Obama does, giving him ZERO respect for being President.

4) Stop watching Fox News, or getting your opinions from a friend or family member who does.  No compromise on this one.  It is not a news source.  It is a propaganda machine.  And yes, there are other news channel talk shows that have biases (although most of them are corporate, not liberal), but I will not indulge in a game of false equivalencies with you.  Nothing, other than some conservative talk radio, is more biased and hateful than Fox News.  End of story.

Really.  Seriously.  I do want us to get along better.  I do want us to solve problems.  But as long as you are blinded by ODS, it makes it impossible to get things done.

Here's to the cure!

May it free us to move forward!

History of the Trap: September Rains Part 8

8

"Hey, everybody!  It's time for the Winner's Circle dance!  Those football phenomenoms, the Granite Raiders, get to choose their own partner for the next dance!  The fabulous Mark Schiltzer and the Lookouts will perform the recent Chicago hit, Color My World!"  A joyous Bob Short spoke from a mike on the small stage in the cafetorium, in his portable DJ booth.  Mark Schiltzer led his group of musicians, who helped us break from the playing of the same records, over and over and over.  They weren't great, but they had two of the only three guitars that we fortunate to have, including the only electric one.

"First is Team Captain Mark Granite." The crowd broke into wild applause. Of course, the enthusiasm of that applause was not universal.  "Hmmm, I wonder who he'll choose."  The place broke out in raucous laughter.  Everyone knew he'd choose Morgan LaDona Tigh.  To no one's surprise, he extended his hand to her, and it wasn't long before they were in a tight clench in the center of the dance floor.

Lisa was standing with Morgan's friends, but was beginning to look apprehensive.  I think she wanted to get as far out of the line of fire as possible.  She started to make her way over to me and Artie's gang. 

"Next, as Mark's designated star of the game, this talented wide receiver caught three touchdown passes, Gavin Woodall!"  Gavin quickly picked Janie Houseman, a very pretty girl who was also in line to be class valedictorian, at least until the Trap delayed Graduation.

And now the man Mark says was responsible for protecting him, Wilbur Jones, who picked Cathy Summers, the icy beauty pageant winner.   My old student council nemesis looked very pleased with himself.

Delbert Batkowski was next, the big defensive tackle, and in a surprise, went for Ginny Estill, Artie's girlfriend and my former longtime crush.  Ginny was confused but Artie just shrugged his shoulders.  "Your call, Ginny.   Just don't let him breathe on you too hard.  Who knows what he's been eating and drinking?"

"Oh, what the hell," Ginny said, and took Delbert's extended hand.

The next person introduced was Robert Pelly.  No one thought he deserved to go next in line, but there he was.  He looked over the room like he was a wolf picking out the tastiest sheep for slaughter.

His wild eye roved across the field of possibilities, and finally settled on someone who had made her way to my side.  Lisa Carlton, looking a bit scared, her eyes wide behind her glasses.  "C'mon, Four Eyes!  Ready for the thrill of your life time?"

She withdrew from him and looked downright terrified.  "N-n-no!  I...no!"

"What do you mean, no?" he practically roared.  "Rules of the game, baby!  I won the big game, and now I get to pick whoever I want, and I decided to take pity on you!  Get rid of those glasses and loosen your hair and clothes, and you ain't so bad!"

I stood between Lisa and Robert.  "She said no."

"She can't say no!" he shouted.

From the front came the voice of Bob Short.  "Look, sorry, Robert.  It's still a free country.  She can say no if she wants to!  Pick someone else."

Robert turned towards Bob and the DJ table, his fists clenched tightly.  "Free country?  Are you out of your mind?  We're not in any country anymore!  Don't you see?  We're in the nation of us now!"

Vice Principal Tate and a couple of teachers were beginning to approach.  He looked menacingly at everybody, but his look towards Lisa was particularly nasty.  Such intense scorn, it made me put my arm around her shoulders and want to protect her.

"Look, take it easy, Robert," said Vice Principal Tate.  "Why don't you come with us and we'll think about this for a moment."  Tate reached out to him, and Robert tried to shrug him off, in the process knocking over a whole stack of records, shattering many of the albums.  These would be songs we would never hear again in the trap.

As he was led off, he turned around and shouted at Lisa, "You're gonna be sorry," and then uttered a vile slur that I choose not to repeat.

As order was restored, Lisa sank into me, so much that I felt like I was holding her up.

She didn't dance with me or anyone else.  I was with her, but so were Ginny and her sister Mary.  Even a couple of Morgan's friends came over to offer support.  But not Morgan.  She was too engrossed in Mark Granite's world.

After a half hour, she decided to leave.  I went with her to make sure she got back to the room she slept in.  As I dropped her off, she hugged me tight, whispered something to me, and then she kissed me.  Lightly, on the lips.  As light as it was, it reverberated throughout my entire being.  I watched her walk into her room and gave her a small wave goodbye, which she returned.

It gets more difficult, Doctor Duncan.  I know I'm under time pressure to complete this, but I may need a day or so before going on.

Or longer. 

Loosening the Belt at Spitchaw Ridge

What a fine set of vittles prepared by ol' Mama Crowley!  Nothing to do now but unbuckle your pants, sit down on the rocker with a big ol' stogie, and watch the world go by.  Or in this case, his two semi-idiot sons try to dock their dingy at the pond.

He looked out, and as far as his eye could see was Crowley land, an area commonly called Spitchaw Ridge.  His three acre pond, blue water glistening, flat and calm, hardly a ripple on it, except for what the two dimwits were splashing up.  Past the pond were woods filled with scrub pine and grasses, duck blinds and deer stands.  He grew nothing.  This Crowley was no damn farmer.  But it did make for a great hunting playground.

The sky was cloudy, it's rich blues covered by blotches of fluffy white clouds.  It didn't look like no rain anytime soon.  It was slightly chilly this mid-January late afternoon, but nothing he couldn't handle.  Just time for a post-meal cigar, and to empty his mind from the pressures of the mill, and that all-consuming Compton Park Development Project.  Sometimes he thought that damn development was not worth the headache it was giving him.  It was one of the hardest things he ever took on, what with all the bureaucratic runaround.  All he was trying to do was make something of this town, give it a first rate shopping mall, with a Sears and a Belk's, maybe even a Denny's - wouldn't that be classy?

And just when he thought that Kayak Kelly problem was off the table, that randy Rondy Strickland starts throwing up roadblocks.  Damn, that fancypants lawyer was supposed to be on their side!  Now he's coming up with all kinds' new forms and dots and q's to sign off on, delaying construction another two months.  You would think he wouldn't have time what with chasing down Christie Delco whatever-her-last-name-is.  Well, it didn't matter, as whatever her marriage she was in was now on the kaputs.  What a weak-willed bastard he must be, to be kicked out of his own house by the woman who was cheating on him!

He saw the boys had managed to tie up the boat and were now walking up to the porch.  Well, there goes peace and quiet.

He stood up, all five foot five inches of him, a wiry figure, with a twisted nose like Pappy Yokum form the Lil' Abner cartoons.  Of course, if anyone suggested he looked like Pappy Yokum, he would deck them out.

Looking at the size of him and Mama Crowley, also small framed and seemingly frail, until she popped you in the face or kicked you in the shin, it was hard to believe the two boys were so damn big.  Heavy, tall, and ornery looking, they were constantly in t-shirts, blue jeans and baseball caps.  They were fussing with each other as they approached the porch.  God, he did not want to get dragged into their bullcrap.

"You boys in for the evening?" asked Reggie Crowley, as the boys pushed open the screen door.  Entering was Freddy and Digger, Reggie's two sons.  Both were big framed, both just over six feet tall.  Digger was strong, but beginning to verge on blubber.  He had long, stringy black hair, and he had the twisty Crowley nose, large and crooked.  Freddy was slightly smaller, but not by much.  He had close cropped brown hair, and his nose was more aquiline.  Reggie believed that Freddy had a scose more IQ points than Digger, or maybe it was just a bit more common sense.  Digger would do pretty much whatever he was damn well told, but Freddy might question things a bit.  The bottom line was even though Freddy was second born, he was much more likely to run things one day, whereas Digger might only have a supporting role.  He sure to God wasn't ready to tell either one of them anything about that yet.  Better to keep them guessing, competing with each other.

"We going in to watch some of that Duck Dynasty marathon," answered Digger.  "And then we going to the Oasis later to catch that new band playing there, The Grave Yard Stompers."

Reggie frowned.  "What the hell, boys!  Why don't you just gallivant the evening away!  Don't even check with me first to see if there was anything I needed y'all to do.  I mean, it's not like the Compton Park Development had anything to do with your future."  Now, one would think that with Reggie owning the mill, and a good chunk of Dixon county land, that he would be a happy man.  But, that's not how wealth worked, particularly not for Reggie.  It wasn't enough to have five times more land and money than anyone else in Dixon County.  He wanted to be a state player, hell, maybe even someday compete with the likes of the Koch Brothers and that Donald Trumper feller.  Enough was never going to be enough.

"What you need us to do, Daddy?" asked Freddy.

"We running out of time to turn that project around, boys.  We got to start moving faster.  Digger, I want you get out to that Kayak Kelly cabin, sniff around and see if the police found anything, you know, anything that might show where he is, or if they stumbled acrost anymore of that blue plant bulb he found."

Digger looked confused, but there was nothing real special about that.  "Ok, Daddy.  But, ain't that like a crime scene or something?  I don't wanna get no fingerprints on things I shouldn't ought to."

"Digger, you're an idiot," sighed Reggie.  "There ain't no crime there.  The man's just gone.  I mean, none of you two numbskulls had anything to do with his disappearance, did you?"

Both boys vigorously shook their heads.  "Good.  Don't get me wrong.  It's awful convenient that he's gone, and I'm really grateful, but we can't have even the slightest berry fart of a hint that we had anything to do with it, you understand?"

Both boys nodded.  "Just wear gloves or some shit.  That should do it."

"Can I take Sandy?" asked Digger.  That was Sandy Harley, one of the Harley brothers.  Bigger and fatter than Digger, they often did things together.  Harley's family was genuine, certified redneck, without the redeeming quality of money like the Crowley's had.

"What are you?  Sweet on him?  Y'all gotta do everything together?"  God, you would think that with the money behind his boys, they would have more girls sniffing around.  Freddy actually seemed to spend a little more time with girls, although it had been a good long while since he remembered Freddy actually dating one.  He did kinda overstep recently, patting their waitress's behind (Franny somebody).  It was funny, but he had to nip it in the bud because it was irritating Grace, the restaurant owner.  Hell, maybe someday he would just buy the Honey Dew, and then Freddy could pat whoever's behind he wanted to.  "Shoot, Digger.  Take Sandy.  Just be careful."

Reggie turned to Freddy.  "Freddy, I want you to follow Rondy as discreetly as possible.  I want to know what that fancy a-hole is up to.  See who he's meeting with and where he's going.  What the hell is making him suddenly slow foot this project?"

"I'll do it, Daddy," agreed Freddy.  "I'm afraid all I'll do is catch him shagging that Delco bitch, which is not something I care to see."  Freddy grimaced, the though of it disgusting him.

Digger chortled.  "What's wrong with you?  I wouldn't mind catching some of that action!"

"And that's why I'm sending you into the swamp with your boyfriend, Digger.  Freddy has a better chance of keeping his head on his shoulders."  He had a much better chance of Freddy processing whatever he was witnessing than Digger did. 

"Now, scoot, you two!  I'll have Mama record the whole damn Duck marathon, and you can catch the Grave Robbers or whoever they are another night.  Hell, you two do your job right, and I'll bring 'em out here to Spitchaw Ridge and you can have a regular ol' concert, invite pretty girls and whatnot."

"Whoa!" exclaimed Digger.  "Daddy, you the best!"

Off they went, leaving Reggie on the porch to finish his cigar.  Were they the sharpest tools in the shed?  Probably not.  But they were good boys, and they did their best. 

The more he though about it, the better he liked the concert idea.  Might be a great way for those two to meet some girls, even if he had to bring them in from surrounding counties.  Maybe they was somebody he could find that would knock Freddy's boot off.  Marry some real pretty girl and start having some grandbaby Crowleys!

Now there was a dream worth looking forward to.

Ripping Good Yarns: Premium/Streaming Drama Awards 2014

My legion of Ripping Good Yarn fans, I am proud to announce the third award for 2014, given in the category of Premium Cable Dramas!  Two awards will be given in this category, one will be the Ripping Good Strait Award that is solely determined by me because well, to paraphrase one of my least favorite politicians, Ronald Reagan, "I own this microphone!"  The first will be the Ripping Good Fan award determined by all of your votes!

Ripping Good Fan Award, Premium/Streaming Drama

There are five nominees.  This is based on early nominations and my best estimation.  Voting in this area was very low, as many reminded me they do not have premium cable services. This must disconnect a lot of people to the Emmys as they are increasingly going to premium channels, like the 108 nominations that went to HBO.

The five nominees, with percentage of vote total:

Orange Is the Black - 7%

True Blood - 7%

The Newsroom - 14%

Homeland - 22%

And the winner, with 50%,  goes to....

A Game of Thrones!

This is a great show, a tremendously rich drama with a multitude of characters, with all the pageantry and magic of truly great high fantasy.  A fantastic rendition of the books by George R. R. Martin, there really has not ever been anything like it on television before.  No lead character is safe, anything can and does happen. We are HBO subscribers because of this show.

Ripping Good Strait Award, Premium/Streaming Drama

True Blood!  

Often times a hot mess, it still is a very entertaining and melodramatic show.  Alison caught up with this show over winter and spring and is now watching with me. The fact that we are now watching it together is enough to give it the edge for this ward.  There are a number of good characters on this show, and you often have to adjust your scorecard as to who is evil and who is good from year to year. My favorite in playing a vampire the way he should be played is Russell Edgington.  He is consistently vile, including ripping a news anchor's spine out during a television broadcast.

These are the exact some winners as last year.  It is the third year in a row that A Game of Thrones has won an award.  And deservedly so.

  

But let's not rest on our laurels.  Start commenting on Comedy series.  This can be from any part of television, broadcast, basic cable, premium cable or even streaming services. 

Nominate as many as you like.  Finalists are selected by how many nominations they get. Comment either here or on Facebook.  And with comedies, it's real plus if they make you laugh, or as our hip new texter friends say - lol.

Remember, we're looking for shows with compelling characters, colorful and exciting plot-lines, and continuing story elements.

Fellow Rippers, I await your input!

Ripping Good Yarns: Basic Cable Drama Award Winners!

My legion of Ripping Good Yarn fans, I am proud to announce the second award for 2014, given in the category of Basic Cable Dramas!  Two awards will be given in this category, one will be the Ripping Good Strait Award that is solely determined by me because well, to paraphrase one of my least favorite politicians, Ronald Reagan, "I own this microphone!"  The first will be the Ripping Good Fan award determined by all of your votes!

Ripping Good Fan Award, Basic Cable Drama

Orphan Black and Twisted each received 10% of the vote.

American Horror Story received 15% of the vote.

Breaking Bad  received 25% of the vote.

The Ripper's Fan Award goes to........

The Walking Dead!

The best character driven show on television.  If you are not watching this show because zombies sound icky, you are missing out.  The stakes are high, the emotion is real, the action and story movement is superb.  

Ripping Good Strait Award, Basic Cable Drama

Breaking Bad!  

It's impossible to let this great show end without honoring it's tremendous run.  A premise that sounds awful - a teacher becomes a maker of meth in order to pay medical bills, turns into one of the greatest character studies in the history of television.  Walter White  was a man more monstrous by the fact tat he didn't know how monstrous he was.

In review.......last year's winners......

                        Ripper's Fan Award - Psych

                        Strait Award - The Walking Dead

2012 Awards were called short form awards (13 or fewer episodes).......

                         Ripper's Fan Award - Falling Skies

                         Strait Award - Game of Thrones

Get ready....comedy award coming soon!

  

Out of the Eye of the Storm

Not much of a blog post today, I'm afraid.  Really, I'm just happy we have power and Internet.  Storms were extremely intense last night.

I attended a meeting of the Writer's Guild at OHC last night, As we were meeting, the winds picked up viciously, to the point of almost blowing the doors open.  We lost power for about 30 minutes, meeting stubbornly in the dark, as heavy rains fell outside.  By the time our meeting was over at 9, the rains had settled down enough to go outside.

Traveling back to Blackshear, about a twenty minute journey, was extremely surreal.  I had seen power outages before, but never in such a crazy quilt fashion.  Some stoplights were working, some were not.  And there seemed to be no real reason or pattern to it.  One had a cop directing traffic.  Another had stop signs in the street that someone must have quickly put up.  And others you were just completely on your own in getting through.

Some houses were blazing light,  Others, just a few houses down, were pitch dark.  Then it started over again.  There was no reasoning to it.

Alison had texted me during the meeting that our power at home was out, starting at about 8.  Talking to her on the way home, it was still out just after 9.  She and Benjamin had went to her father's, who only lives a couple of streets over and had full power.

Coming onto our street, I saw the crazy quilt continue, with houses on one side of the street with power, and houses on our side without,  I was wondering whether to take it personal.

Alison and Benjamin came back from PaPa's, and we made the best of it.  We ate a few of the leftover snack crackers that I had got for the meeting, and stayed in the living room by candlelight.  Georgia Power indicated that they would restore power to our area by 10:15.  10:15 came, and the message changed to TODAY.  We gave up and headed for bed.

Benjamin wanted to come back and sleep with us.  Well, that big old boy, now taller than both his parents, had long since passed the age where he could get in our bed.  So he prepared to sleep on the floor.  He let Cocoa Bear in, who was panting fiercely,  Benjamin was restless, constantly asking questions.  Fortunately, Benjamin decided to move on to the living room, as did Coca Bear.

We finally got power back at 1:50.  Alison needed to get up at 5:10, so she got very little sleep.  But we're all okay.  Some downed tree limbs, but no damage.  Benjamin feared it was the apocalypse, but we have survived.  And if it was the rapture, none of our family was taken (some may not be surprised by that).

I am concerned that my friend Kimberly reported there was a major car accident near her house, that eventually brought in eight ambulances. I have not heard more, but I pray everyone is all right.  The accident did not involve Kimberly or her family.

That's today's storm report!  Back to regularly scheduled blogs tomorrow.

New storms permitting, of course.